The desolation of my heart,
Is the pride of your art,
As you paint in crimson blood,
The prize of your mark
The entrails of my carcass,
I've died from the start,
Your sacrificial lamb,
That you slaughter for parts
Away to Death Valley,
I'm hung from the arch,
As lightning strikes my body,
Yet my screams don't depart
Carried within your gates,
You stride and you march,
As the villagers light torches,
I'm burned by the spark
Doomed to damnation,
Surrounded by dark,
The demons are grabbing,
They howl and they bark
Shadow covet my flesh,
I've died from the ark,
It's hellfire and sulfur,
No angels or harps.
Writing outside my zone. Inspired by Michael-Sorbello
YOU ARE READING
Soulful Words From A Broken Spirit
PoetryTake a trip with me as I show you the inner thoughts I bury. This is a book of raw emotions meeting creativity to make you feel emotions on different levels. So I invite you to walk with me as I give you a tour of my soulful words from a broken spir...
